


Everything's Not Lost

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bring Back Black, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-26
Updated: 2004-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm a dead man, Remus, and you may as well be. What better place is there for us than together?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's Not Lost

**Author's Note:**

> For semielliptical. Thanks to mousapelli for the handholding as I wrote. And thanks, as always, to Jen, Pete'n'Melissa, Dot, and Meg. Title from Coldplay.

Remus has a routine, and he likes to stick to it. He works eight to four at the pub and is usually home and in bed by five. He sleeps until noon, and spends his afternoons reading, going to class, and watching telly.

So when he's woken by the doorbell one morning at nine am, he's not particularly happy about it.

"Who is it?" he asks, voice still hoarse with sleep, and presses the 'listen' button on the intercom.

"Moony?"

Remus closes his eyes, because it's impossible. There's only one person who calls him that, and that person has been gone for years.

"Moony, it's me."

"Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"Open the door, I'll prove it's not."

He stabs at the buzzer to let Sirius in, unlocks and opens the door, leaning against it with his arms folded over his chest.

"You would live in a fourth-floor walk up with no lift," Sirius grumbles when he reaches the landing.

"It's good exercise," Remus answers, swallowing the bitter taste of fear that floods his mouth. Before he can ask, Sirius shifts, becomes the big, black dog, and bounds past Remus into the flat before turning back into a man. He pulls Remus into a hug, but Remus remains stiff, unable to believe what he's seeing.

Sirius pulls back. "You don't look happy to see me."

"I'm in shock," Remus replies easily, but that's only part of the problem. He's really _not_ happy to see Sirius, because Sirius is _dead_ and the dead should stay dead and let the living move on. Every time Remus thinks he has, Sirius reappears, only to disappear just when Remus has got used to him being around again.

Sirius nods, head swinging back and forth, taking in the small but tastefully furnished flat in which Remus lives. Remus follows him into the living room, tries not to grimace when he sprawls on the sofa and thumps his booted feet down on the coffee table.

"I asked Harry not to tell you, because I wanted to tell you myself, but he said you haven't been keeping in touch."

Remus hasn't seen Harry in three years, not since Voldemort was finally defeated. It's easier this way, for all of them.

"No, I-- So much has changed, Sirius. It seemed best to let Harry get on with his life."

"And you to get on with yours, which is what this is really about."

Sirius always had been able to read him better than most. Remus smiles thinly. "Yes, well, that too." But he doesn't want to talk about himself. "But Sirius, how-- The veil--"

Sirius shrugs, and Remus is torn between laughing and wanting to strangle him, because _of course_ Sirius treats coming back from the dead as casually as he'd treat a trip to the newsagent for a pack of fags and a magazine.

"Don't know, really," Sirius says. "I woke up on the floor of the death chamber and sneaked out. I didn't know how much time had passed. Luckily, I ran into Hermione and she explained everything. That was a month ago. I spent some time with Harry. You know he and Ron and Hermione are--" Sirius breaks off, as if still confused by his godson's relationship with his best friends, and Remus nods.

"I know. They seemed happy the last time I saw them."

"They are," Sirius says, smiling. "They really are. And I was in the way, so I decided to visit my old friend, Remus, who apparently disappeared into thin air after the war ended. I've spent the last week tracking you down." He shakes his head. "You're good at losing yourself, Remus. You always have been."

Remus nearly growls in frustration. "Not good enough, obviously." He's been learning to accept the life he's got, and to appreciate what he has. Sirius's reappearance will upset everything, and Remus doesn't think he can handle it again.

Sirius looks pensive, but when he speaks, all he says is, "It's a nice flat. You're working, then?"

"Yes." _This is good,_ Remus tells himself. _Stick to simple, declarative sentences. Don't let him draw you into anything._

"Seeing anybody? Is there a boyfriend I'll have to duel for your honor?" He brandishes his wand, and Remus bites his lip, because this is how it starts, and he's never been able to resist Sirius for long.

"Not at the moment, no," he finally answers, through a painfully false smile.

"That's good." Sirius bounces up off the couch and paces the room for a few moments, reading the spines of the books on the bookshelves. "How about brunch at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Remus leans against the wall for support, because part of him wants to so badly, he can almost taste it. "I-- I'm sorry, Sirius. I can't."

"Have to work? No problem. We can have dinner--"

"No. I work nights, down at the pub."

Sirius's eyes light up. "Cool. We can go to Hogsmeade and see Harry, and still get you back in time for work."

"I can't, Sirius."

"Oi, Moony, stop being such a stick in the mud."

Remus swallows hard. "I don't think you understand," he says, and has to stop to clear his throat before he can continue. "When I say, 'I can't,' I mean, I physically _can't_."

"You can't Apparate? You used to be quite good at it, if I recall correctly. Oh, well, there's always the Floo," he turns to look around the flat again, "though you don't have a fireplace. You have a television, and a stereo, but no fireplace."

Remus can see the wheels turning now, and knows he won't get out of this without explaining every last detail to Sirius, which may be more than he can bear at the moment.

"That's because I can't use the Floo, either."

"Remus?" Sirius is facing him now, eyes wary and intent.

"I wish Harry had told you," Remus says finally. "It would have been far less awkward."

"Told me what?"

"In the final battle with Voldemort, we did a spell--"

"A _Concateno_ charm, yes. Harry told me that. Brilliant. I bet you thought of it, clever bastard. I remember we discussed it with James and Lily, but Peter didn't like the idea. Of course." Sirius growls at the memory.

"Peter died saving Ron, you know."

Sirius doesn't look pleased. "I do know. Harry told me. He did not, however, tell me that you participated in the binding spell."

"I-- Perhaps we should sit down for this." Remus feels his own legs trembling, and even three years after the fact, thinking too long about what happened makes him ill.

"Remus?" Sirius repeats, his voice low and worried.

"I didn't participate in the bond-- Harry, Ron and Hermione did that." Remus looks out the window, remembering the tension, the fear, the utter exhaustion of those last days, and Hermione's certainty that the spell would work. "But they needed a sacrifice."

Sirius leans forward, puts one hand on Remus's wrist, his fingers warm and strong against Remus's skin. "I'm sure whatever you did was necessary, and obviously, the Ministry agrees or you'd be--"

Remus cuts him off with a bitter laugh. "It couldn't be that kind of sacrifice. It couldn't be dark, Sirius. Not to defeat Voldemort's darkness." He runs a hand through his hair, wishes he still smoked, still had the ritual of lighting a cigarette to calm him, had something to do with his hands, had the soothing rush of nicotine in his blood. "I offered myself, of course. My life, if they needed it." Sirius inhales sharply, but Remus keeps talking. "It's not like we weren't all risking everything anyway. It was just a more formal offer, which, as you know, is the heart of these kinds of rituals." Sirius's fingers constrict around his wrist, and Remus gives him a tight smile.

"What happened? Obviously, you're still here."

"It wasn't enough." Remus looks down at their joined hands. "Because I didn't care. I wanted to die."

"Remus, I'm sorry--"

"Not your fault, Sirius. Really." He withdraws from Sirius's grip, rises and turns to look out the window. "I volunteered. I was offered a choice and I made it." He turns back to Sirius. "Give me your wand." Sirius raises an eyebrow but hands it over willingly enough. "Eleven inches," Remus muses, running his hand over the wood. "Mahogany and-- phoenix feather?" Sirius nods. "Good for transfiguration."

"It was always my best subject," Sirius murmurs, and Remus's chest tightens in remembrance.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, because even three years later, it is still painful. Opening his eyes, he points the wand at the book on the coffee table. " _Accio The Sun Also Rises._ " Nothing happens. Still pointing at the book, he says, " _Wingardium leviosa_." And still, nothing happens.

Sirius frowns at him. "My old wand had a dragon heartstring core, like yours. Maybe that's why you can't-- But something should-- Where's your wand, Moony?"

"It wouldn't matter, Sirius." Remus gives him back the wand, palm itching to hold it, to feel again the warmth of his own wand in his hand. "That was the sacrifice. I gave up my magic."

"But, but how--"

He turns to stare out the window again, cars and people rushing by below, going on with their lives, the way he's tried to go on with his. "I offered it freely, and it was taken, given to Harry and Ron and Hermione, binding them together. And together, they defeated Voldemort. Oh, Harry fulfilled the prophecy, but without the other two, he never would have managed it. He's lucky. His friends never betrayed him." His voice breaks, and Sirius's hands are warm on his shoulders, Sirius's lips are cool and dry on his neck.

"Remus, if I'd been there--"

Remus closes his eyes against the pain in Sirius's voice. "But you weren't." He grunts in frustration. "I'm not blaming you, or anyone. It's not as if I didn't have a choice, nor as if I didn't receive something in return. I made my bed and I lie in it."

Sirius laughs harshly, warm breath stirring the hair on Remus's neck. "Of course you do. That's what you've always done, isn't it? But you don't have to do it alone."

Remus shrugs Sirius's hands off, steps away from his embrace and crosses his arms over his chest. "I think it's best if I do, this time."

"Remus--" Sirius runs a hand through his hair, cut shorter than it was the last time Remus saw him, but still long enough to fall into his eyes. "What about the full moon? With Snape gone, who's making the Wolfsbane for you? Does it even work anymore?"

More questions he doesn't want to answer. "Sirius, please. Just-- Go."

Sirius stares at him for a moment, a challenge in his eyes. "Where?"

"What?"

"Where should I go, Remus?" He spreads his hands wide in question.

Remus shakes his head. "I don't know." He drops his gaze, stares at the scuffed wood floor, warm against his bare feet. "Back to Harry. Back to Hogsmeade. Away from here."

"There's no place for me there."

Remus steels himself against the urgency, the pain in Sirius's voice. "Well, there's no place for you here, either."

"Remus--"

"I've always wanted things I couldn't have, Sirius, and you gave them to me when it was possible. It's not this time, so please, don't make me believe it is. I lost you twice. Please don't make me do it a third time."

He can tell Sirius is hurt, but he can't let that sway him. His decision is made, was made the day he agreed to help Harry with the _Concateno_ charm.

"I've loved you for nearly as long as I can remember," he says finally, his voice so low Sirius has to lean close to hear it, warmth radiating from him. Remus inhales; Sirius still smells of dog and sunshine, of magic and possibility. "But I can't do it anymore."

"You can't love me?" Sirius asks roughly.

Remus turns away, unwilling, for once, to lie, and unable to tell Sirius the truth, because then he'll never go away. He doesn't turn back again until he hears the sharp crack of Disapparation behind him.

If he feels as though he's carrying a heavy weight on his chest throughout the day, he tells himself it's because he woke up earlier than usual, and if he drinks himself sick that night after getting home from work, there's nobody around to notice, or comment.

***

Sirius was never one to give up easily, so Remus is surprised and relieved ( _not disappointed, no_ ) when he doesn't come round again. Two weeks pass and Remus is beginning to believe Sirius has taken him at his word. It would be the first time.

On Sunday, his night off, Remus makes himself a sandwich, takes a beer out of the fridge, tucks a book under his arm, and is heading for the roof when a loud crack startles him. Sirius is standing there, trying to look casual.

"I'm glad I've caught you before you left." He holds out a ratty copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and says, "It's a Portkey. The magic is in it, so you don't have to do anything."

"Sirius?"

"We can go to the Forbidden Forest. To the Shrieking Shack, if you like, though I thought you probably wouldn't."

Remus thinks his heart, which has been broken so often by this man, breaks again. Of course Sirius would know when the moon was full.

"No need for that, Sirius." He pulls another beer from the refrigerator. "Come up to the roof with me."

"The roof?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Sirius drops the paper onto the kitchen table and seems happy enough that Remus isn't throwing him out to follow him anywhere.

Remus climbs the stairs slowly, fully aware Sirius behind him, feeling those intent grey eyes focused on every movement of his body as he walks.

They are both a little short of breath, and Remus's shirt is sticking to his back, when he pushes the door open. The air is warm and moist, and the sun is just beginning to sink behind the horizon on this rose-scented July evening.

"A rooftop garden," Sirius says, bemused, and Remus smiles.

"Yes. I like to sit up here on my nights off and look at the stars." He offers Sirius half the sandwich and a beer.

"Thanks," Sirius says, but he's quivering with barely suppressed impatience. "But isn't this dangerous? We should be going--"

"No, it's all right." Remus sits down in one of the lawn chairs, takes a bite of the sandwich and a sip of beer. "When I said there was no magic left in me, I meant it." He laughs then. "Of course, I don't really _believe_ it either, but every full moon I come out here and I..." He breaks off with another small laugh. "I see the moon, Padfoot, but I no longer fear it." He takes another swig of beer and watches Sirius's expression in the golden glow of the sunset as Sirius sinks into the chair beside him.

"I don't understand. There are Muggle werewolves, Remus. It doesn't matter--"

"I know." He shrugs. "It's recompense, I think."

"That doesn't make any sense. It's not a sacrifice if you receive something in return." As always, he and Sirius are thinking in tandem, and Sirius is probably actually a few steps ahead. "A reward, perhaps, for being willing?"

"Magic works in strange ways."

"On the other hand," Sirius continues as if he hasn't spoken, "the curse is magical, and if your magic was removed completely, it makes sense that it would disappear as well. But it didn't transfer to the children, so... Huh."

"It _is_ a puzzlement," Remus agrees with a smile, and finishes his half of the sandwich. It will keep Sirius occupied for a long time, because there is no precedent for it, as far as he knows. It may also be something that keeps Sirius coming back, and Remus tells himself that's not what he wants. Of course, he knows he's lying.

They watch the sun go down in silence, and Remus can feel Sirius's eyes on him as the full moon rises. He imagines he can feel it pulling at his blood, tightening his skin, but nothing else happens. He remains himself.

Sirius is staring at him now, eyes wide. "God, Moony."

"I know," he answers, feeling the joy well up inside as it has every month for the past three years. "I know."

They lapse into reverent silence, and Remus raises his bottle in a toast to the moon before draining it dry.

"So you see," he says before he can start to feel too comfortable with Sirius beside him, "you don't have to look after me anymore."

Sirius snorts. "You don't need me, is what you're saying."

Remus inclines his head. "To put it bluntly, yes. I don't need you, and you remind me of things that I can't ever have again."

Sirius puts his bottle down and shakes his head in disbelief. "I've come back from the dead, Remus. Do you really think the fact that you're a Squib now is a problem?"

"I think it sounds exciting to you now, but when the reality of it sets in, you'll see what a mistake it would be. And I told you, I can't bear losing you again." He taps his fingers on the arm of his chair. "If the situations were reversed, you know I'd end up leaving."

"Yes," Sirius answers, and his lack of hesitation hurts Remus more than expected. "That's always been your problem, Moony. You give up too easily. But I'm not you."

"No, you're not," he says dryly. "So please believe me when I say I know what I'm talking about."

Sirius picks up his bottle of beer and dangles it between two fingers for a moment before taking a sip. Then he says, "No, you don't."

"Sirius--"

"What kind of life do you have now?"

"A good one, Sirius. A good one." Sirius is one of the few people who have ever been able to get a rise out of him, and as much as he tries to keep the anger out of his voice, he can hear it seeping in around the edges. "I have a job I enjoy, a lovely flat, and I've been taking courses at university. I'm learning how to live in this world without magic, and I don't need you around to remind me of what I've lost. What I'd still have to lose."

"Have you any friends?"

"What?"

"You go to work, you go to school, you come home and sit on the roof by yourself, drinking cheap Muggle beer."

"I have more than that. I--"

"Oh, sure, sometimes you meet a bloke you fancy down at the pub and you fuck him once or twice, but you don't keep him around. That's always been your way, Remus. Don't get involved. Too many secrets. Too much to lose." Sirius stands and flings the beer bottle off the roof, then waves his wand so it disappears before it hits anyone below. Then he turns to face Remus, fair skin silvered in the moonlight. "Even now, when you haven't any secrets left, you're still the same."

"You don't know that."

"I know _you_."

Remus rises and they stare at each other for a long moment, and he can feel himself wavering.

"I'm a dead man, Remus, and you may as well be. What better place is there for us than together?"

Remus sucks in a surprised breath at that, but when Sirius holds out a hand, he takes it, allows Sirius to pull him close for a kiss.

When their lips meet, for the first time in five years, Remus feels truly alive. It won't be easy -- nothing between them ever has been -- but in the few moments while he can still think coherently before being overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sirius all around him, Remus realizes that the things he's so afraid of losing are the only ones worth having.

end


End file.
